


The Unpublished Works of Hiyori Iki

by iguessso12



Category: Noragami
Genre: Alternate Universe (breakaway from canon), Character Death (nondescriptive), Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Gen, Humor, i don't know how to tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:17:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9130156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iguessso12/pseuds/iguessso12
Summary: Years have passed since Yukine was a beginner regalia, Yato was a hopeless god, and Hiyori was a girl who regularly lost track of her body. So much has happened. And yet, Yukine still looks the same. He's still here.And now he's without a master.Yato disappeared. Not in the "he ran off" sort of sense, but in the "he ceased to exist" sense. So Yukine struggles with his loneliness and his purpose until his hope is reignited by the one who carries the torch of her mother.





	1. Reconnect

“Anything to report, Yukine-kun?”

Yukine flopped in the chair across from Kazuma’s desk with the proper air of an aloof, fourteen year old boy.

“Not really. Nothing new anyway.”

Kazuma gave him that look, as if to say _act your age_. Which wasn’t technically fourteen, but he couldn’t help that he would forever have the body and emotions of a teenager. Either way, Yukine got the message Kazuma was trying to project.

He sighed and explained in more detail, “Masked Ones converged on the sector I was scouting at nightfall. It looked like they were searching for something. I tracked them all night, but nothing irregular happened. They left empty handed, or pawed… whatever. It’s the same kind of activity we’ve been seeing for the last few months.”

“Any clue as to what they might be after?” Kazuma asked, taking notes in his precise shorthand.

“No.”

A pause lasted for a few beats.

Yukine squirmed, not liking the way the atmosphere in the office shifted.

“The Masked Ones are combing Tokyo for something.” Kazuma pressed his fingers to his temples, thinking out loud, “What is it? The Sorcerer has been lying low for over a decade to recover from Heaven’s purge. So why now? What made him suddenly take action?”

Yukine’s expression was rueful, “If I knew, I would tell you, Kazuma-san.”

Kazuma peered over his glasses at the boy, “We’ve known each other for years, Yukine-kun. There is no need for formalities. Especially when it’s not work related.”

“This is work related.” Yukine’s amber eyes glinted, a hard edge to them.

“No.” Kazuma countered, “This is personal, as you well know. Better than I.” The last part was soft. The weight and intent was clearly received by Kazuma’s younger peer.

“ _Kazuma-san_ ,” Yukine muttered “I’m keeping the two separate.”

“You’ve drawn some sort of line?”

“A borderline.” Yukine confirmed, “I’m not going to cross over. Ever. If I can help it. Things have been hard enough as is.”

That caused Kazuma to lean forward, “May I ask you... about said _things_?”

The boy thought about it for a moment, tapping a sneaker impatiently on the floor.

“No.” He said finally.

Kazuma sighed, “If you ever change your mind you know I am willing to listen, right?”

A sharp nod was his only reply.

“Anything else?”

“Not that I can think of.” Yukine’s answer was noncommittal. Perhaps bringing up past – and probably present – heartaches was a bad idea. Kazuma could have just left things well enough alone. But he’d seen too many situations fall into disarray because people had ignored the elephant in the room. He wasn’t willing to see it happen again. Especially not with one of his dearest friends.

Kazuma sighed, “Then your report is complete. You may be dismissed. Your compensation will be delivered through the regular route within twenty-four hours. I will contact you via Tenjin for your next assignment.”

Yukine heaved himself to his feet and made a casual bow, blond hair growing messier with the movement. He was eager to leave. He wasn’t in the mood to see anyone else, be they regalia he was acquainted with or otherwise.

As if his thoughts were a self-fulfilling prophecy, he bumped into someone the moment he stepped into the hall.

“Ah, Yukine-kun!” A strong, steadying hand grabbed his shoulder so he didn’t fall, “Are you leaving already?”

“Bishamon-sama.” Yukine bowed again, more proper this time as he was owing reverence to a god despite their mutual familiarity. When he looked up, those violet eyes were filled with humor and just a hint of sadness. Why did everyone have to look at him like that? He wasn’t about to shatter into pieces.

“I’m on my way to my other job, so I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

“Is that so?” Bishamon hummed, “I was just about to call Kazuma for tea. Are you certain you don’t have a few minutes to spare? You can join us.”

“No.” Yukine realized his brief answers were probably rude so he tacked on, “I’m sorry, but I shouldn’t be late.”

Bishamon sighed, much like Kazuma had only a minute before, “Alright then. But come back soon. Don’t be a stranger.”

Yukine offered just a hint of a smile at that remark. Stranger? Nothing could be stranger than him right now. His status. His circumstances. He waved goodbye and navigated his way out of the familiar palace.

The god watched as he went, hurried steps carrying him away with a speed that spoke of many things: places to be, preoccupied thoughts, and pain. He hid it well, but even so, Bishamon saw it all.

“Yukine!” She called when he had reached the main door. He didn’t look at her. “Just because you no longer have a master doesn’t mean you need to bow to me. I keep telling you this.”

The boy’s hand tightened on the doorknob, knuckles white. Even after many years of service and many years alone, Yukine could not escape his youth and the characteristics that came with it. He was ruled by his emotions. And those emotions had been heavily damaged.

He dealt with it to the best of his ability, but…

But what was a regalia without a god?

Yukine left without acknowledging Bishamon, closing the door roughly behind him. It didn’t surprise her in the least. With that ache heavy on her heart, she joined her guidepost in his office. Kazuma too looked agitated after his meeting with the younger regalia. It seemed as if thoughts were flying though his head at a million miles a minute. Despite his uncanny powers of observation and heightened awareness, he barely registered his master’s approach.

“Well.” Bishamon broke the still air, “What news did Yukine bring?”

Kazuma blinked, the haze of thought clearing from his eyes.

“Nothing incredibly notable.” He said, “The same reports about the Sorcerer’s activity that we’ve received for a while now. We can assume that he’s rallying again. The number of Masked Ones are high, but since they aren’t causing any trouble, Heaven doesn’t care. But they _will_ cause trouble when they find what they’re looking for, without a doubt. We need to stay a few steps ahead of him or it won’t be good for us.”

“Is it ever?” Bishamon teased, trying to lighten the mood and snap Kazuma out of overanalyzing things. She circled the desk to rest her hands on her regalia’s shoulders. They were tense, “Come on, Kazuma.” She pinched the tight muscles, making him jump, “I think it’s time for a break.”

Grumbling, her guidepost straightened the papers on his desk, “I’m simply frustrated.”

“About what?”

“What else? It’s been almost forty years and we’re no closer to resolving this mess.”

“Forty years isn’t that long, Kazuma.”

“For a god, maybe not. For a human, it’s almost half of someone’s life.”

Kazuma stood with a jerky motion, his movements mechanical. Bishamon could feel him trying to manage his emotions, yet despite his exceptional control, some slipped through: anxiety, doubt, and fear.

She linked his arm in hers, dragging him along, “The Sorcerer might as well be a demon.” She stated blandly, “He has lived for centuries. Longer than any human. He nurses a grudge against Heaven itself. And while we were able to deal him a blow during the purge, we knew that wouldn’t be the end of him.”

 _Yato had known that better than anyone_. Her regalia’s head fell.

“But we will fight him.” Her tone was matter-of-fact. This had been decided ever since… “And we will win.”

“It won’t bring Yato back.” Kazuma’s voice was subdued.

A pang of regret lanced through Bishamon’s chest; Kazuma’s pain was hers as well. Although she had spent centuries loathing the nameless god of calamity, they had reached a point of quasi-comradery before…

Before his existence had ended.

“Come on, Kazuma. Aiha made jasmine tea.”

“Your favorite.” 

* * *

 

That familiar buzz and light associated with teleporting quickly dwindled away as Yukine arrived back on earth. Visiting heaven was, as usual, an uncomfortable experience for him. While he’d been there many times with and without Yato, it never came to a point where it felt like home.

And why would it?

His master was never properly established there. Eve after Hiyori had made a shrine for Yato, they’d continued to board with Kofuku and Daikoku for years. Which was mainly due to the fact that Yato stubbornly insisted on never charging anything other than five yen. That joke of a god was as traditional as they came, although he never _looked_ the part in his jersey.

Yukine waved at Mayu across the courtyard of the scholar god’s shrine, “Please thank Tenjin-san for me when you see him. I’ve got to head out before I’m late to work at the shop.”

“No problem, Yukine-kun.” The woman’s smile was the color of cherries and spoke in volumes of affection, “Take care!”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “Don’t I always?”

“I’m afraid you’ve inherited the bad habit of finding trouble from your master.” Mayu answered with a giggle, “That’s why I have to stay on your case.”

Yukine pouted, but didn’t argue any further. He always lost when he argued with Mayu. She was a deadly combination when it came to those kinds of things: wicked debating skills and razor sharp wit.

All the same, he appreciated her immensely. Her gusto. Her savvy sensibilities. And her willingness to talk about Yato. Mayu missed him too, in her own way, which gave them something in common. She could broach the subject of his late master with fond memories rather than the doom-and-gloom approach that Kazuma always tried.

There weren’t many people that missed Yato.

Yukine stuffed his hands in his pockets, turning away from the tidy shrine. The plum trees were flowering. That along with the bite in the air reminded Yukine that it was mid-February on earth. Time seemed to be slipping by faster every year. He tried not to think about it too much.

The path from Tenjin’s shrine to Kofuku’s store was a familiar one, well-traveled over the time that had passed since he’d become a regalia. He recognized every building, every street corner, and many of the people. Even some of the smaller ayakashi were familiar – small-fry phantoms that liked to lurk about the citizens and alleyways.

He paid them no mind, even though their stares fixed on him as he passed by. A stray cat he’d been feeding recently caught up to his heels and meowed for attention. He bent to scratch it behind the ears, watching pedestrians as they hurried by, ignorant of his presence.

A frown pulled at his lips.

Things changed without a master.

“Gotta get to work.” Yukine mumbled to the cat, “Work. Work. Work. That’s all I do these days.”

But he was reluctant to leave. The stray had flopped over on the sun-warmed cement and purred nonstop as Yukine rubbed its belly.

Another hand joined his, doubling the cat’s volume.

“Need me to look out for him then?”

Yukine looked up into the face of a young woman. She was close, leaning down to pet the cat. Short, brown hair sat in messy curls on her shoulder. Her tawny eyes were fixed on the stray, though it was obvious she had been talking to him.

That alone threw Yukine for a loop.

“What?” He said stupidly.

The young woman met his eyes, “If you’ve got to get going, I can look out for this guy. It’s obvious that he needs some love.”

“Oh.”

“You must be the only one who pets him.” She giggled, “He’s attention starved. I can tell because I’m a university student and I’m pet starved too. Is he yours?”

“No.” Yukine answered faintly, “He’s a stray.”

“Did you give him a name?”

Yukine shook his head. Something about her intense stare was familiar. Her irises were such a golden-brown that they seemed to shine with their own light. That quality reminded him strongly of…

Hiyori.

“Who are you?” it came out harsher than he meant.

The young woman wasn’t deterred. “I’m Amaya Miyamoto. And you are?”

“Yukine.”

“Yukine-kun.” She tipped her head, “That’s a cool name.”

 _Is it familiar?_ He wanted to say, but he bit his tongue. With her leaning this close, he could smell the scent of roses coming off her winter coat and thick, pink scarf.

“We should give him a name.” Amaya announced, meaning the cat. “Got any ideas?”

“Yato.”

“Hmmmm… Sounds good. Does it have some kind of meaning?”

“ _Night Sword._ ”

“An interesting choice.” Amaya appeared to be thinking deeply, “Any specific reason for it?”

Yukine looked at the cat and shrugged.

“Am I keeping you?”

“Huh?” Yukine’s eyes snapped up to Amaya’s and that expression on her face was so familiar it hurt.

“Am I keeping you from getting to work?”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Oh.”

With Amaya’s questions exhausted, the two continued to pet the cat. Yukine knew from experience that eventually the stray would get tired of the attention and go from adoring to aggressive like the flick of a switch. A lot like someone he knew, come to think of it. But he didn’t want this moment to end. Because as soon as Amaya Miyamoto walked away, she’d forget his existence.

Just like she’d forgotten his existence over a decade ago. The day after her mother, Hiyori Iki-Miyamoto, had died.


	2. Reset

“See you for dinner, Yukki!”

“Later, Yukine-kun.”

It was just past noon when Yukine hung up his apron and slipped into his sneakers. He waved to the god and her regalia after closing the front gate.  A huge sigh worked its way out of his lungs. Sleep tugged at his eyelids.

He’d been up all night tailing the Masked Ones through the city streets, doing his best to keep them in sight while also keeping his distance. Powerful and talented he may be, but a regalia still requires a god to wield them in order to banish evil. And every Far Shore denizen knew that Masked Ones were more intelligent than phantoms had any right to be.

His sigh turned into a growl at the thought.

Stupid Sorcerer and his stupid puppets.

There was nothing Yukine wanted more than to wipe them all out. The most quick and efficient way was to cut out the source: Yato’s so-called father.

Yeah right. Some father. More like a good-for-nothing piece of shit.

Yukine scuffed his sneakers on the sidewalk, trying to manage his emotions in a non-destructive manner. It was hard without Yato around to listen to him vent. But he wouldn’t fall completely prey to negative thoughts. He couldn’t. Because without a master, he had no safety net.

Which was why he’d taken up contract work as a constructive outlet.

There was a small collection of gods spearheaded by Bishamon that tracked the Sorcerer’s activity. Officially, their goal was to work proactively and thwart whatever plans the Sorcerer had for Heaven. Unofficially, it was Bishamon and Kazuma’s revenge on the man that had abused Yato and precipitated the god of calamity’s demise.

It was a huge risk for both the gods and the regalia involved. Far Shore denizens had learned that almost forty years ago when the Sorcerer was most active. Heaven had wiped out the Masked Ones in a purge when things had been at their worst before seemingly forgetting about the Sorcerer altogether. To Heaven, he was a mere human, nothing more.

Yukine realized that, in his distracted and sleep deprived state, he had already arrived in front of his apartment building. His hand was poised to type in the passcode to the door, but the numbers weren’t coming to mind.

“I can’t seem to remember the passcode either.” A voice behind him teased, “but then again, I just moved in. What’s your excuse?”

A pink scarf. That’s all Yukine noticed before someone came alongside of him, pale fingers pressing the appropriate code to the apartment building’s front door. He looked up and he wasn’t sure whether to be surprised or unsurprised that he was meeting Hiyori’s daughter’s gaze for the second time that day.

Amaya suddenly hesitated.

“You _do_ live here, right?”

Yukine’s brain stalled.

“Um, kid? You okay?”

“Y-yeah… sorry about that.” His hand rubbed the back of his head. Yukine was acutely aware of just how young he looked – stuttering and uncertain.

Amaya was staring at him hard. And just when Yukine thought she might be remembering their encounter earlier this morning, she said, “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“I’m… uh, a little sick today.”

“If those bags under your eyes are anything to go by, I’d say you’re telling the truth.” Amaya smiled at him softly, seeming to swell into big sister mode. Although, he was far more accustomed to playing the role of big brother, “Is your mom taking care of you?”

“Sure, let’s go with that.” Yukine mumbled, squeezing through the door. He sensed that the conversation was straying into the ‘ _aren’t you too young to be living alone?’_ area. He’d heard that one _far_ too many times.

But Amaya followed him through the door and up the stairs. “You should get plenty of rest. And water. Drink lots of water. Maybe also take a warm bath if you feel up to it. My mom was a doctor, so I have a pretty good idea of what to do when you get sick. If you need anything…”

Yukine was determined not to look back at her as she continued to offer a steady stream of advice. But she followed him onto the landing of the third floor. His floor.

He couldn’t stop himself from whirling about and asking, “What are you doing?”

She pulled out a key and slid it into the lock of apartment 304 – the one right across the hall from his. _Her_ apartment, he realized belatedly.

“I live here.” Amaya gave him a strange look, “Are you running a fever?” She stretched out a hand, going to check the temperature of his forehead, but Yukine pulled back sharply. He turned around and started fumbling for his own key.

Seeing this, Amaya plowed ahead, “So we’re neighbors. Well I can’t keep calling you ‘kid.’ I’m Amaya Miyamoto. What’s your name?”

No. Just no. He couldn’t deal with this.

He knew he was panicking slightly, but how could this happen? Yeah, he remembered the couple who used to live across the hall. They’d been expecting their first baby. And these one-room apartments were quite small. Too small for a family. But he didn’t remember them moving out. That must have happened while he was busy.

How in the good god of fortune’s name did he end up with Hiyori’s daughter as his neighbor?

She could _see_ him. With no obvious effort it seemed. It wouldn’t take long before she became majorly suspicious of his daily schedule – working overnight and coming back from the oden shop at noon – without a parent or guardian in sight. Then again, she’d already forgotten him since this morning.

Yukine finally got his key in the lock and turned it to the side. He slipped through the entryway and shut the door as quickly as possible, leaving Amaya to gape at the empty hallway. The locks slid shut noisily, but he didn’t care. He kicked off his shoes, not even bothering to organize them amongst the others.

He dragged his futon out of the closet and collapsed onto it.

The crux of the matter was that Amaya would meet him over and over again for the first time. Yukine, meanwhile, would have to deal with the emotional fallout of said meetings. And there was no way that was going to be good for the borderlines he’d drawn for himself.

He remembered Amaya as a newborn. Her brown hair thick from day one. It stuck out of the blanket she’d been wrapped in by the Iki General Hospital nurses. Hiyori’s smile was so proud when she’d held her daughter for the first time. Yato wouldn’t shut up about how cute Amaya was.

He remembered Amaya as a toddler. She had this pair of overall’s Hiyori would have her wear every time she went out with Yato and Yukine. Because both boys had no concept of cleanliness and the three of them would come back covered in chalk dust and dirt and whatever else struck their fancy.

He remembered Amaya as an eight years old. Standing straight and silent as people passed through her mother’s funeral procession. She was only just old enough to understand the concept of death. Yukine hadn’t been able to say anything to her. Without Yato, he’d felt like a lost child too.

Gods, this was bad!

Yukine yanked the coverlet tight around himself, felling his eyes grow hot and itchy – a tell-tale sign that he was about to start bawling. It really sucked to have an eternally pubescent body, unruly emotions included. He was technically around fifty years old, but no one cared about that. Humans wouldn’t believe him and regalia weren’t ranked according to age, only ability.

He sure as hell didn’t feel like a _blessed_ vessel.

But he couldn’t curse his existence. It would go against everything Yato had wanted for him. To live. But could Yato have imagined Yukine living without him? Probably not. That dork always wanted Yukine around even if neither of them wasn’t happy about it.

The tears finally spilled over. Yukine mopped them up with the corner of his coverlet. Ugly, watery sobs filled the empty silence of his tiny apartment. His nose started to run too, but he didn’t have the energy to grab the Kleenexes he knew were only an arm’s length away on the table. He felt pretty damn sorry for himself.

Cry. Then sleep.

Yukine didn’t actually remember falling asleep. Just darkness.

He still didn’t like the dark.

* * *

 

He felt much better when he woke, but his damp coverlet was a nagging reminder of his emotional upheaval. Yukine slid his window open and hung the coverlet out to dry. The air was cold, but the wind would do the job just fine. He took a shower and threw on a clean outfit before heading out for the night. His first stop was Kofuku and Daikoku’s place for dinner.

Yukine waited until after they’d started eating to drop the proverbial bomb.

“So… Hiyori’s daughter is my new neighbor.”

Kofuku immediately spilled her miso soup and she remained frozen in shock even as it dribbled into her lap. Daikoku grumbled as he grabbed a rag to wipe up the mess before addressing Yukine.

“Amaya, right?”

Yukine nodded.

“I don’t think even my luck’s that bad.” Kofuku whispered, a hint of awe in her tone.

“She doesn’t remember me.” Yukine mumbled, “But she sees me every time.”

“You can stay here if you want.” Daikoku offered.

“I won’t lie and say I didn’t think about it.” Yukine said, spearing some food with his chopsticks instead of picking it up properly, “But I worked really hard to be independent and find a place to live that would work for me.”

Kofuku cooed over how mature he was, but they all knew how hard he’d researched to find his apartment. It had been constructed right next to a small shrine and so the water running in the pipes was the same that fed the wells for the minor god’s worshippers. Only an exceptionally large phantom would be able to force its way in. Yukine had lived unbothered there for years.

“Maybe it’s fate.” Kofuku said in one of her rare moments of seriousness.

Daikoku leaned to the side, resting his head on his hand, “Maybe.” He agreed.

Yukine caught himself staring.

“What do you mean?”

Kofuku’s violet eyes were half lidded, like she was reciting an auger, “Like the tides rolling back before a tsunami, perhaps Amaya’s reintroduction into your life is a harbinger of something bigger to come. Will you follow the tide out and be caught in the devastation or will you save yourself, flee for the safety of higher ground, and abandon everything you’ve established?”

Yukine glared at his food.

“I don’t know. They sound equally undesirable.”

“Yukine-kun.” Daikoku interjected. He was using that tone that meant he was speaking from one regalia to another, “I don’t pretend to know what you’ve been through. I don’t know any other regalia that would have the strength to do what you’ve done. But I know you will make the right decision. And we will support you however we can.”

“Awww, Daikoku. You’re such a softie!” Yukine couldn’t help but smile as the god of poverty glomped her regalia. If anything was constant in his life, it was the two of them.

Daikoku endured Kofuku’s adoration and continued to eat. “By the way, Yukine-kun,” He said, “Do you have any work tonight?”

He shook his head, “Kazuma’s unit has things covered for the next few days. And it’s not like I’m much good beyond recon work.”

“Not all of us can fight front lines.” Kofuku’s tone was demure as she went back to her food, “We all have different roles. You always fulfill yours splendidly, Yukki.”

“We have no idea what they’re after.” Yukine reminded her, stuffing his mouth with rice.

“But we’ll be ready. No matter what comes.” Daikoku growled, “And we’ll take out the Sorcerer. Permanently.”

Yukine couldn’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have any sort of update schedule in mind. There are still some details I need to work out... but I thought you all might benefit from another chapter! XD Happy New Year!


	3. Recollection

A month passed with some semblance of normalcy for Yukine. It seemed his schedule was the opposite of Amaya’s. And he was doing his best to stay out of her line of sight when they did cross each other’s paths.

There was however, one situation at the Seven Eleven near their apartment building. Yukine was browsing the combini bentos when they happened to reach for the same one. Amaya had predictably stuck up a conversation that lasted the walk back. According to Amaya, she was in her last semester of university, studying Literature and English. She is aiming to be an editor for a young adult fiction publisher. She’d been studying abroad in America last year, so she’d been subleasing a friend’s place until she could find one of her own, which she had now.

Go figure.

She’d probed about Yukine too. And he felt little bad for feeding her the usual cover story: that he was fifteen, starting his first year at a high school that was two hours from where his aunt and uncle who raised him lived. But it was much more believable than: I’m the immortal spirit weapon of your godfather who is actually a _god_.

Yukine couldn’t tell if Amaya had changed a lot or not at all. Sure, she had grown up and handling all the responsibilities that came with adulthood. Only he couldn’t help but see little girl that had woven tiny braids into Yato’s overlong hair and soundly defeated Yukine in hopscotch.

He was working a stakeout tonight for Kazuma, but it didn’t seem like the Masked Ones were going to show. Which gave Yukine plenty of time to think.

Perched on a high rooftop in Harajuku, Yukine yawned. A train clacked by, pausing briefly at the station before continuing. The forest park surrounding Meiji Shrine were completely dark. A wind whipped at Yukine’s army green coat. In the distance, he spotted a whale-like Ayakashi coasting through the upper limits of Tokyo. Otherwise, it was quiet.

His life – or afterlife – seemed to be a series of cruel coincidences. His death was probably one, although he didn’t remember it. Yato ceased to exist because Hiyori, his only believer, had died at the same moment Yukine had severed Yato’s ties to Father.

If only he didn’t remember it so clearly.

_“It’s not over, Kazuma. He’s rallying again.” Yato had bit out, “Heaven’s a fool if they think the previous purge put an end to his plans. He’s been plotting for centuries. Another few centuries won’t change that.”_

_“I know.”_

_They’d met a Kofuku’s place._ They _being Yato, Yukine, Bishamon, and Kazuma. Kofuku and Daikoku were there too, but it wasn’t like there was much they could do in a battle against a man who could control phantoms._

_“We’ll keep watch, Yato.” Bishamon had said, “We won’t give him the free reign that Heaven’s allowed him.”_

_“That’s not enough.” Yato growled. His cerulean eyes burned like a demon’s – the antipathy of everything Yato wanted to become._

_“He’s been disarmed. Again. Everything’s been done short of killing him.” Bishamon insisted._

_Yato’s response was so soft it took godly hearing to register, “Not every weapon.”_

_Yukine’s eyes went wide. Was Yato being serious?_

_It was as Daikoku had noted to Hiyori so long ago. How could a nameless god like Yato continue to survive for centuries? Yato had guarded the secret of his father for the sake of his continued survival. It had taken a lot for him to tell Yukine, his own blessed regalia. One hint was all it would take for anyone to connect the dots. And when they did, the key to Yato’s own demise could be deduced._

_“What do you mean?” Bishamon’s voice was low and dangerous, “He has something else? Another stray? Some curse? Magic item?”_

_“Try a god.” Yato muttered._

_Yukine choked, unable to believe where this was going._

_“What god?” Kazuma asked, all business._

_“Me.”_

_No one spoke. The silence begged an explanation._

_“The Sorcerer – my father – wished me into existence. It’s his belief that has kept me alive all this time. But it’s conditional. Sometimes he calls me back to do his dirty work with Nora. I’ve tried…”_

_Yato broke off so Yukine picked up where he left off._

_“He’s not going back anymore.” The steel in his voice was as hard as the edge of his blade._

_“But…” Kazuma tentatively continued, “Wouldn’t that be perilous for you? If the Sorcerer is your one guaranteed link to existing and you cut ties with him…” He didn’t finish the thought._

_“There’s Hiyori.” Yato mumbled. Over twenty years had passed since meeting her and Hiyori still believed. She never forgot them after that first time. They still played a very active part in her life. In fact, they babysat her eight year old daughter after school three times a week._

_No one wanted to respond to Yato’s defense, because they all understood reality. The Sorcerer was immortal for all intents and purposes. Hiyori had limited time. Hiyori knew that too, which was why she told her young daughter bedtime stories of a stray god and his genius weapon._

_“We’re willing to bet our lives on Hiyori.” Yukine said. They’d had this conversation many times over – weighing their options – but ultimately, the choice was simple, “She’s never let us down before.”_

_Bishamon leveled the stray god and his regalia with a cold, calculating stare, “We’ll strike tonight, before the Sorcerer can regroup and give Yato the chance to cut his ties.”_

They’d all agreed. It had seemed like such a solid plan at the time. But what they didn’t know became their downfall.

Hiyori hasn’t been old, even by human standards. She had gone to the hospital for a simple, outpatient surgery to fix one of her heart valves that had been causing an arrhythmia. But there were complications. And Hiyori… didn’t make it.

It just so happened to take place minutes after Yato cut his ties with his father.

A cruel coincidence.

Yet, somehow, Yukine continued to exist even after his master did not. The fact became a source of confusion and guilt for him as a regalia. Why? Why was he still here? What purpose did he have without a master? Yukine still had a name, but the one who had given it to him was gone. The answers eluded him. Sometimes he believed that Yato’s wish for him to live empowered him. But Yukine knew that Near Shore and Far Shore was governed by rules more strict than such heartfelt fantasies.

So here he was. In the present. Living on his own. Working for other gods. Haunted by the past both figuratively and literally.

The wind gusted over the rooftop, forcing Yukine to hold his hood in place by its furry lining. It brought him back to his surroundings. Yukine uttered a spell that would scan the surrounding nooks and crannies, but it revealed no notable Ayakashi. Since the Masked Ones didn’t show at the predicted location, Yukine decided to make a clean sweep of the city.

With supernatural agility, Yukine leapt from rooftop to rooftop, hands in his pockets to keep them warm. He repeated the spell as needed and kept a sharp eye out for any abnormalities. He didn’t usually do sweeps, since it could be dangerous if he ferreted out any large Ayakashi, but Yukine needed to feel useful.

Nights in Tokyo were never truly dark, but there was a definite change in the atmosphere as dawn broke. Deep indigo tinged by florescent orange gave way to bright cerulean and crystalline blue. Mornings were Yukine’s favorite part of the day. They were quiet and calm. Sometimes he could simply close his eyes and whisk himself back to the days he and Yato wandered around waiting for work to fall into their laps.

Yukine settled into a bench at the station to wait for the first train. He typed up a quick synopsis of his uninteresting night on his phone so that he could report it back Kazuma more officially.

He didn’t realize that he’d dozed off until the chime of the first train startled him awake. He boarded and decided to stand at the window so as not to fall victim to another cat nap. The trip to Kofuku’s shop was longer than most, but it wasn’t like Yukine didn’t have all the time in the world.

A frown pulled at his lips despite his best efforts.

There was a definite borderline to living without a master. It meant that he had to tread carefully through his thoughts. Yukine could all too easily find something to fixate on until he spiraled into hopelessness where there would be no Yato to pick him up again.

He shook his head.

This is why he had a schedule. Work, work, sleep, and do it all over again. No, it wasn’t the best solution and it certainly wasn’t a permanent solution. But for now, it would do. Kofuku and Daikoku constantly checked on him like the doting aunt and uncle they pretended to be – that they may as well be. They were the best he could ask for.

And so the day whirled by like any other day.

It wasn’t like any other day.

* * *

 

A soft knock sounded at Yukine’s apartment door. Pulled from his sleep, Yukine groggily checked his phone. The screen blinded him for a second during which another set of knocks sounded.

6:45 pm.

He’d been asleep roughly four hours. Not nearly enough. But why was someone knocking on his door? The only one who ever did that was his landlord when he was late on rent and that hadn’t happened in years.

Worried that it might be urgent, Yukine threw off his coverlet and answered his door wearing only his sleep shirt and shorts.

“Mmm, yeah?” He rubbed the gunk out of his eyes as he spoke.

“Um, hi!” Amaya chirped, “I’m really sorry to bother you, but I was making dinner and realized that I ran out of eggs. It’s kind of urgent so I couldn’t make it to the combini and back, but then I remembered that you lived across the hall. I thought ‘what the heck, I’ll just ask.’ Do you happen to have a spare egg?’”

Amaya took Yukine’s uncomprehending stare as a negative.

“But, if you don’t, then I’ll just be on my way…”

Amaya made a move to walk off, face heated with obvious embarrassment, but Yukine’s hand shot out to grab the sleeve of her sweater. Amaya stopped and looked back at him.

“What is my name?”

Amaya’s expression grew bewildered. She must have thought this exchange would follow a more simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ pattern.

“It’s Yukine-kun, right?” she asked.

Yukine’s eyes widened in disbelief. He couldn’t stare at her without it getting weird so he stared at his bare feet.

“Do you have an extra egg, Yukine-kun? Otherwise, I have to get going or my ramen is going to burn…”

“Yeah, just wait right there!”

He darted back into his apartment and grabbed the necessary ingredient from his tiny fridge. He shoved it into her hands without preamble and was about to shut the door when he saw her smile. Amaya’s lips curled upwards into her rosy cheeks and her eyes got squinty and it was all so familiar it made Yukine’s heart ache. She offered him a little bow, adding, “Thank you very much for the egg, Yukine-kun. You’ve single-handedly saved my ramen!”

Yukine nodded mutely and shut the door.

The inside of his room was dim, lit only but his nightlight. Yukine leaned his forehead against the cold metal of the door and closed his eyes.

_“You’ve single-handedly saved my ice cream!” Amaya chirped. Yukine was pretty sure she’d heard that line on TV while watching cartoon. He laughed._

_“I don’t know how getting you a new one when you dropped the old one qualifies as ‘saving,’ Maya.” He told her._

_The six year old pouted, “It’s the same ice cream! It doesn’t matter if it’s old or new. But if it did, then I like this version better.”_

_Yukine took her hand that wasn’t clutching the ice cream and tugged her in the direction he’d last seen Hiyori, “That’s probably because this one isn’t covered in dirt.”_

_“Yeah! Thank you, Yukki-kun!” She smiled that big, squinty smile that always did Yukine in._

_“Alright alright. Let’s find your mom…”_

Yukine smiled as the memory. It was one of those moments they’d kept a secret between the two of them because they didn’t want Hiyori to find out and scold them. Now he was the only one that remembered. Or so he thought.

What just happened?

They’d lived in the same apartment for a month and Amaya had introduced herself countless times. What had happened to make the last time stick? Would it stick? Or would he be forgotten again? He almost wanted to check and see. If he crossed the hall now and knocked on her door, would she call him by his name?

“Whelp.”

Yukine collapsed back onto his futon and pulled his coverlet snugly around him. He’d deal with that after four more hours of sleep. At least four. He might just need more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to get the plot moving, but the introduction got... seriously long :D There's a little more info here on the order of past events. I hope it all makes sense!
> 
> "Recollection" is also the title of my favorite soundtrack from the first season. It's so atmospheric! Also, *spoiler alert* but i'm so glad the box problem seems to be done and over with in the manga *cries myself to sleep*


	4. Research

As it turned out, Yukine – like most teenagers who didn’t want to deal with something – avoided the Amaya Problem instead. It was easily done.

Yukine continued with his normal life and put the Problem at the back of his mind. It didn’t like being there. It liked to bother him at inopportune moments. So he added another thing to his schedule: research.

He wanted to figure out what the Sorcerer might be after and possibly locate it before that asshole could. He wasn’t sure where to start. Yukine’s list of clues was short: it was probably a magical item of some sort, it was probably somewhere in the Tokyo area, and it was probably going to be bad news for the gods.

It wasn’t much of a start.

Tenjin offered to give Yukine full range of his vast collection of ancient scrolls, which was nice. And anytime he was there for research, Mayu offered to help, which was also nice. Yukine discussed it at length with Kazuma, who had agreed with his conclusions and offered the names of a few texts where he might want to begin looking. But Kazuma was much too busy to help search Bishamon’s huge palace library, so after their conversation Yukine was on his own.

Which was fine with him. It did, however, peeve him to no end that he couldn’t be useful in the same way that Kazuma could. Kazuma got to go out and slay Masked Ones with Bishamon while Yukine was stuck inside leafing through dusty scrolls and heavy tomes.

Fine.

He snapped another book shut and laid it on his quickly growing ‘complete’ pile. He sighed, added a note to his phone, and picked up the next one. It didn’t matter that the muscles in his back were knotting up or that his eyes felt dry. Not at all.

“Yukine-kun.”

Yukine startled awake. Apparently when he’d slouched against the bookshelf and shut his eyes for a second, he’d dozed off. How much sleep had he’d been getting recently? Four hours? Five? Clearly, his plan to avoid the Problem wasn’t foolproof.

“Uh, hey Karuha. Hey Kazuha. What are you guys doing here?”

He didn’t often come across Bishamon’s regalia in the library. One person might drop by to get something specific, but never more than that.

The twin regalia shared a knowing look before Yukine finally noticed that Kazuha was holding a tray. She held it out to him as she explained, “We ran into Kazuma earlier and he mentioned you were here. So we brought you some tea as a pick me up.”

“Looking at you now...” Karuha muttered, “Maybe we should have brought coffee instead.”

“That was nice of you.” Yukine said honestly. He accepted the warm, ceramic mug and squeezed it between his hands. The steam coiling below his chin was still awfully hot, so he decided to wait before tasting it.

“Have you managed to find anything, Yukine-kun?” Kazuha asked. She set the tray on the floor and knelt beside his pile of books, absently perusing the titles as she waited for the answer.

“Not really.”

“It’s just a matter of time, though.” Said Karuha, “I know you will find it.”

Yukine couldn’t help but side-eye the seemingly younger regalia as he brought his tea to his lips. He didn’t drink it right away, asking first, “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, you’re you.” Karuha explained somewhat unhelpfully, “So that’s how I know you will find it.”

Kazuha laughed when she saw Yukine’s screwed up expression. Whether it was the result of Karuha’s words or the hot tea, she couldn’t be sure, but she thought she would help out the blessed regalia and better explain her brother’s imprecise words.

“I think what Karuha is trying to say is that the task you’ve set for yourself is not beyond your abilities. After all, you are Yukine-kun. You’ve survived wars between gods and wars on the Sorcerer. You’re a blessed vessel. You’ve endured the scrutiny of Heaven and the criticism of your peers since Yato’s been gone. And all along, you never once lost your way.”

“You’re amazing, Yukine-kun.” Karuha summarized, “Everyone here thinks you can do whatever you put your mind to. All you need to do is believe in what you’re doing. Isn’t that what being a regalia is all about?”

At times like these, Yukine’s teenage emotions always seemed to get the better of him. The twins were physically no more than ten. Children. They could easily speak their mind and be no worse off for it. Amaya had been like that at one time. But Yukine, under the weight of their praise, wanted to shrink in on himself. He hunched his shoulders and hid behind his tea.

“Thanks guys.” He mumbled, looking away.

“No problem.” Kazuha chirped. She stood and brushed out her skirt as her brother grabbed the tray.

“We’ll let you get back to it.” Karuha added.

And then they were gone. Quick as they’d come. Yukine was still kind of reeling, so he diverted his attention from his tangled up feelings to the stack of unread books at his side. Tea in hand, he began again.

The caffeine, however minimal, worked its way through his system. His mind felt sharp and effective for another two hours or so before it started to waver. The sound of his stomach growling broke his concentration for good.

A glance at his phone showed that it was just past seven. If he left now, he could make it to Kofuku’s place for their usual dinner time at eight. Yukine glanced around the library, finding it to be – unsurprisingly – empty, so he decided to just leave his books on the floor for the time being.

Yukine’s head swam a little when he stood. He waited a few seconds, keeping a steadying hand on the bookshelf as his equilibrium returned. It was a little disconcerting. Yato, for all his faults, would never let Yukine reach this level of self-neglect.

A minute later, he was latching the library door shut, coat in one hand and empty mug in the other. After detouring by the kitchens, Yukine was finally ready to leave Bishamon’s palace. And now for his least favorite part.

The walk from Bishamon’s library to Yato’s shrine was about fifteen minutes through heaven. It always made him uncomfortable, mostly because heaven was so _public_. Everyone here could see him. He wasn’t used to that. And once he left Bishamon’s island, he was no longer in friendly territory.

As Kazuha had pointed out, his peers – other regalia – were extremely suspicious of him.

He was a blessed regalia. Which, yes, was rather impressive. But blessed regalia often had inauspicious endings. Like getting locked in a box for eternity. Or living longer than their masters. Which was the crux of the matter.

“If he became a blessed regalia because he would forfeit his name for his master, then why did he not die _before_ his master?”

Yukine walked with his head down, trying his best to block out the whispers of those passing him by. But it did little to no good.

“He still has the name given to him by his dead master, yet he bows to other gods.”

Yukine was close now. He could see Hiyori’s small shrine with its homemade craftsmanship now only a little ways away.

“Why is he still here? Why hasn’t Amaterasu-sama _dealt_ with him?”

Relief washed though him when he was finally able to run his finger over the small crown embellishment on the _tori_ gate of Yato’s shrine. In a shimmer of light and the blink of an eye, he was gone. Once again, he could breathe easy.

The wind of Near Shore whipped around him and he was home.

* * *

 

Yukine’s plans to take a day off and catch up on sleep were completely foiled. But, he supposed he could let this one slide. Around noon, Amaya had knocked on his door and invited him over to her apartment for lunch. She’d smiled that smile that Yukine couldn’t say no to.

“I just thought, since I borrowed that egg from you, and since it’s been a few weeks… I ought to repay you. With interest! So that’s why I’m making you a whole meal! I was worried that you might have gone to visit your aunt and uncle for the weekend and you wouldn’t be here. But, whaddya know, you _are_ here, so…”

His brain was only semi-awake, but Amaya seemed to be entertaining herself just by chattering on and on, so he could probably get away with zoning out. She led the way to her apartment. She was saying something about how it might be a little messy but if she’d turned out anything like Hiyori then that probably wasn’t the case.

Amaya sat him down on a cushion at her table and took quick stock of him. He probably looked terrible to her: a messy, gangly teenager worn down by sleep deprivation. She pressed her lips together and said, “I’ll make coffee first.”

The one-room apartments in their building were not impressive by any means, but Amaya had seemed to make do. “Does omelet rice sound good?” she asked from her makeshift kitchen.

“Yeah. Sounds great.”

Amaya grinned. The coffee pot beeped, nabbing her attention, and less than a minute later she set a steaming mug in front of him. Yukine felt more awake after just smelling it, and Amaya didn’t miss how he’d perked up. She laughed, “Do you need sugar and or cream?”

“Nah,” Yukine took a sip, then added, “I like it black.”

Amaya pulled a face, “You’re a weirdo, Yukine-kun.” She went back to attending the burner and cracked a few eggs into the skillet, “I can’t drink coffee until it has enough sugar and cream to be considered a dessert.”

“Each to their own.” Yukine consoled her, taking another – much longer – sip.

“And thank the gods for that.”

With her back turned to him, Yukine could freely scrutinize that comment. It wasn’t an uncommon expression, exactly. But it seemed an odd turn of phrase for a college student. In his experience, twenty-somethings were much less spiritually inclined than the average person. He decided not to comment, and instead filed it away for later use.

The coffee worked wonders. In no time at all he was alert enough to finally take stock of his surroundings. Amaya had settled into her small apartment with minimal belongings, it seemed. There was a bookshelf stuffed full of YA novels and manga next to the window and a desk took up the opposite corner. But that was about it.

Yukine craned his neck around to get a better look at the items on the desk. A thin laptop. A mirror. A pile of weathered and worn Campus notebooks similar to the ones Hiyori used to use. From where he sat on the floor, Yukine couldn’t read the labels on the notebooks.

He cleared his throat, “So, uh, what kind of classes are you taking this semester?”

“Mmmm… stuff. It’s my final semester, so I kinda went easy on the credits.”

“Sounds fair.”

“Yeah. It’s nice to have some down time, but I always find ways to make myself busy despite that.” She laughed. Yukine waited a pause as Amaya focused on flipping the eggs in the pan, “I’ve already taken everything required for my major, so I’m currently taking classes that will help me find a job as an editor.”

Cooking completed, Amaya heaped the food onto plates and brought it to the table. She and Yukine muttered a quick ‘thanks for the meal’ before digging in. The only sounds for a few minutes was the clinking of their spoons on their plates.

“So right now…” Amaya said between bites, “I’m taking this class that’s basically a real life test run of what authors have to go through to get a book published. The whole point of the class is just to write something you can submit for review and then see how far it goes!”

“Wow. That sounds equally cool and terrifying.”

“Terrifying?”

“Well,” Yukine’s fingers drummed the table distractedly, “It’s just that writing is hard enough, and then on top of that you have someone tearing it apart in search of mistakes. Terrifying.”

“I guess it’s good for me that it’s just a grade and not my career.”

“What did you write about?”

Amaya’s eyes darted to the notebooks on her desk when she said, “It’s kinda personal.”

“Oh.” Yukine didn’t know what else to say.

“So, Yukine-kun! How is high school?”

Yukine shrugged.

“Oh, come on! I told you all about my classes. Now it’s your turn.”

“Well… I’ve been really busy with this research project recently, so I’ve mostly been holed up in the library.”

Amaya’s eyes lit up as she leaned in and asked, “What are you researching?”

“Ancient artifacts of religious significance.”

“Really!?” She radiated surprise, “That sounds awfully complicated for a first-year. Are you secretly smart, Yukine-kun? I bet you are! At first I thought you sorta looked like a delinquent, but I guess I was wrong!”

Yukine choked on a spoonful of rice. Amaya had to come around the table to pat his back until the coughing subsided. Yukine took a drink of his coffee, eyes watering from exertion, and said, “I can’t tell if you’re complementing me or insulting me.”

Amaya smiled, “Yes.”

“Well, my research hasn’t been very fruitful yet.” Yukine confessed, “It’s rather… disappointing.”

Amaya didn’t say anything for a few moments as she pushed rice around her plate with her spoon. She heaved a big sigh like she’d come to a decision and said, “Maybe sometime we could compare notes. I’ve been really into mythology recently, so maybe I could be of some help.”

“Maybe.” Yukine didn’t mean to sound so noncommittal, but the likelihood of a human knowing more about mythology than gods and regalia seemed pretty slim. Amaya might bring a fresh perspective, but he doubted she’d be able to tell him anything new.

“You probably don’t want to talk about it right now, huh?’ Amaya noted, “You’re too tired. Take some time off to recover before you hit the books again, Yukine-kun. I know you can get out of this funk!”

She sounded so certain, Yukine couldn’t help but peer up at her through his bangs, “How do you know? You don’t really know me.”

Amaya seemed unbothered by his criticism. She shrugged, “I just do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY! Pep talks all around for Yukine! I think that's me projecting since I have midterms in a week. That being said, I probably won't be able to get the next chapter out until after that so it'll be next weekend sometime. Sorry! Thanks for reading :)


	5. Revival

The next time Yukine saw Amaya, it didn’t really count.

It was the end of another long day – for him – which meant it was only around noon or so. Yukine was trudging back to his apartment, hands in his pockets to protect them from the cold when someone rushed past him on the sidewalk. He hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings, so he was almost knocked off balance.

“Sorry!” Amaya squeaked before taking a closer look at her victim, “Oh, Yukine-kun, I’m so sorry. I was distracted and I almost didn’t see you there.” She absently brushed him off as if he had actually fallen, all the while speaking a mile a minute, “Take care of yourself. I gotta run! Bye!”

And then she was gone again. Minutes later, while Yukine was unlocking the door to his apartment, he could hear her voice through the walls, buzzing low and fast and excited. But he couldn’t make out her individual words. Not that he was trying. Her business was her own, even if he _had_ been involved with the first one-third of her life.

He went to bed and didn’t think about it. In fact, it had pretty much slipped his mind completely and it was only a week later that he started to put two and two together.

It all started with a phone call from Tenjin’s shrine. This was not out of the ordinary. Usually, Tenjin or Mayu would be the ones to call him with a new assignment. So when he answered, he was expecting one of their voices. Not Kazuma’s. And certainly not Kazuma’s voice sounding so rattled.

“Yukine-kun, I need you to come to Tenjin’s shrine right now.”

Yukine glanced down at the oden he was ladling. It was simmering nicely. Daikoku was in the main shop organizing pillows and such for the incoming lunch rush. Usually it wasn’t so busy that Daikoku and Kofuku couldn’t handle it without him, but it seemed wrong to break their usual way of doing things.

“Now?” Yukine couldn’t help but whine in a very typical teenage fashion.

“Yes. Please.”

It was the ‘please’ that told him something was wrong. If this was for work, Kazuma could very well tell him upfront in a manner more akin to an order; or Kazuma would let him off completely. Despite appearances, Bishamon’s guidepost could be rather moody like that. A request, however, was neither of those.

Yukine sighed, “I’m coming. Just let me tell Daikoku know and it’ll be another fifteen minutes or so for me to walk there.”

“I’ll see you then.” Came Kazuma’s short reply before the line went dead.

That was… odd.

Yukine brain supplied theory after theory during his walk over, but none of them seemed to fit the circumstances. His best bet was just to wait and see.

When he arrived at Tenjin’s shrine, he immediately spotted the god and regalia talking out front. Mayu hid off to the side, listening. Her hands held the corners of her long sleeves up to her mouth. There was a sheen to her eyes that Yukine couldn’t ever recall seeing before.

But he didn’t have time to think about it. Kazuma strode straight to him the minute Yukine’s feet crossed the border into the shrine.

“I need you to come with me to heaven, right now. I’ll explain on the way.”

“It’s not that far once we teleport, Kazuma-san. Could you not tell me here? What’s the rush?” He looked over Kazuma’s shoulder to Tenjin, knowing the old scholar would be more willing to offer answers, “What’s going on?”

“Kazuma-kun has the full story.” Tejin said, his face unreadable, “It’s best you just go along for now.”

“Fine.”

He didn’t have to be happy about it. With a wave of Tejin’s hand, the two regalia dissolved in pillars of light, whisked away to Far Shore.

Yukine opened his eyes to find himself surrounded by the walls of Bishamon’s courtyard. Which wasn’t a surprise, but he still wasn’t sure what all this was about. He leveled a glare at Kazuma’s back as the man made quick steps in the direction of the palace.

“You said you would explain on the way, but you still haven’t told me anything.”

“Just this morning,” Kazuma began, and Yukine had to jog to catch up before falling into step with the elder guidepost, “Some of the younger regalia asked if they could invite a friend over to the palace. Permission is never a problem, I just like to know who comes and goes. So I asked them who the master of their friend was.”

Yukine didn’t say anything. And Kazuma didn’t need prompting.

“They informed me that their friend was a god, and not, in fact, a regalia. So then I asked them who their friend was. And they told me that their friend went by the name of Yaboku.”

Yukine felt his heart stutter in his chest, loud and insistent. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even ask if Kazuma was being serious.

“Apparently, they had met this god a week ago on the main island. They had never seen him before nor had they heard of a god named Yaboku. So that’s why I only found out today. They didn’t know…”

Kazuma paused as if to wait for a response from Yukine that still wasn’t forthcoming.

“I asked them to take me to see their friend and, well… there’s no mistaking it. Centuries old or five years old, Yato is still Yato.”

“Where is he?” Yukine croaked past his paralyzed throat.

“Here. In the palace. I thought that was the safest place for the time being and I have the rest of the lead regalia watching over. They’re with the kids right now.” Kazuma glanced at Yukine, saw his wide eyes and felt his growing anticipation, “We’re almost there.”

“Tell me…” Yukine’s voice was so soft Kazuma had to strain to hear it, “Tell me this isn’t a joke. Tell me this is real.”

There were few things that truly harmed a regalia, functionally immortal or not. Strong emotions being the most potent. And Kazuma felt his heart twist inside his chest as he watched his junior. There was excitement, yes, but even moreso there was the pain of being lost and alone. False hope could very well be the weapon to strike Yukine, the blessed regalia, down to the point of no return.

But this wasn’t false hope. Not yet, anyway.

“It’s real. I promise.”

And Kazuma opened the door in front of them, leading to what could be a new future.

* * *

 

When Yukine had first been given a name and the title of regalia, he’d seriously questioned the sanity of the whole system. For what reason did the gods need humans? And dead ones at that? Why the hell was being a ‘servant’ such a privilege? He certainly hadn’t asked for that kind of life.

But over time, he learned that being a regalia meant something different for everyone. Being Yato’s regalia, well… that came with its own set of complications.

He’d changed. He’d leaned. He’d grown – although never in the physical sense. But most of all, he’d known, with all his being, that he’d found his place at Yato’s side.

So when Yukine looked across the room and saw a child in a white yutaka with silky black hair and electric blue eyes, he knew, without a doubt, that it was Yato. That was just how things worked when you were the guidepost of a stray god.

Everything else seemed to drop away.

And for the first time in almost twenty years, Yukine saw Yato smile again.

Laughter echoed loudly through the room as the children began another round of their game – what appeared to be duck-duck-goose. A girl with pigtails circled the children, drawing out each word in an attempt to rile up the competition.

“It _is_ Yato.” Kazuma murmured next to him, “But I can’t understand how he ended up here.”

Yukine reached for his voice again, “Your guess would be better than mine.”

“I understand that his shrine resides here in heaven and it hasn’t been moved since…” Kazuma broke off the thought, “But he’d need to have a believer with enough faith and I haven’t the faintest clue who that would be without…”

Even with so much unsaid, Yukine understood perfectly. He racked his brains for a moment when a horrible thought occurred to him.

“Kazuma-san.” He kept his voice low even though anyone would be hard pressed to hear them over the noise of the children, “If there is a way to cut bonds, it makes sense that there would also be a way to restore them, right? What if Yato is what… who the Sorcerer has been searching for?”

Kazuma’s eyes widened behind his glasses. He rubbed his chin with his hand. Yukine could practically see the gears turning in his head, “I would have to look into it, but I imagine it’s possible. The Sorcerer has proved himself to be unreasonably _capable_ in the past. And if Yato was reincarnated with his old name… Although, why would he need to _look_ for Yato if that was the case?”

“I’m not sure if he knew about Hiyori’s shrine.”

Kazuma nodded, “I’ll talk to Veena about it. Whether or not your hypothesis is true, however, Yato will need looking after.”

Hands on his hips, Yukine leveled a glare at Kazuma, “You think I can’t take care of my own master?”

“No that’s not what I…”

“Yukine-kun!” one of Bishamon’s younger regalia that he recognized had jumped to his feet in the circle and started waving energetically. Apparently, their conversation had gown loud enough to garner attention. Yukine waved back, prompting the mob of kids to migrate across the room and gather around him.

“Yukine-kun, did you see me win!?”

“Did you see the flowers I cut for the library, Yukine-kun? You’ve been in there a lot!”

“Can I have a piggy-back ride?”

Backstage to the all the ruckus, Yato hung about the periphery, suddenly unsure of his place.

Kazuma stepped in and calmed the crowd of kids. Despite their energy, they obeyed his instructions to go back to their game and give Yukine, Yaboku, and him some time to talk.

And Yato, blue eyes wide and curious, glanced between the regalia.

“Yaboku,” Kazuma began by gesturing to Yukine, “Do you know who this is?”

Yato quirked his head to the side like a cat, studying blonde hair, amber eyes, and fists held tight in apprehension. Seconds passed in silence.

“Yukine.” The name tumbled easily from Yato’s lips, seemingly surprising even himself.

“That is correct.” Kazuma said, “Yukine is your regalia – your guidepost.”

“I have my own regalia?” Yato whispered in awe.

“Yeah, you do.” Yukine knelt down so that he was eye to eye with his master, “But I call you Yato. That’s the name you gave yourself. And you gave me the name ‘Yukine’.”

Yato mouthed his own name without actually making any sound.

“We make a great team.”

Yukine felt his throat closing up even as he said it, his emotions betraying him at the most crucial moment. Yato brought a tiny hand to his face and Yukine felt moisture on his cheeks.

“Why are you crying?” Yato asked.

So maybe he couldn’t blame it on Yato’s sweaty hands this time around.

“Because I’m happy.”

Yato’s eyebrows furrowed together, “You cry when you’re happy?”

“So do you.” Yukine countered, “You bawled like a baby when Hiyori built you a shrine.”

Blue eyes lit even brighter, shining like twin full moons on a cloudless night, “I have a shrine?” He whispered in awe, “I have a shrine!?”

“Yep.”

“And believers?”

“Apparently.”

“Am I an idol?”

“Only you would ask that.”

“Am I popular?”

“Nope.”

“Can I have a hug?”

Wait.

Like whiplash, Yato had switched from his typical brand of nonsense to something genuine. A totally Yato thing to do. Yukine missed more than he’d even realized.

“Anytime.”

“Okay.”

Yato reached up and slung his little arms around Yukine’s neck, squeezing tightly. The only reason it was possible was because Yukine had crouched down when they’d started to talk. But as Yato drew the hug out, Yukine’s back started to twinge with fatigue.

After about a minute, Yukine muttered, “Are you gonna let go anytime soon?”

He could feel Yato’s hair brush his cheek as he shook his head ‘no.’

Yukine heaved a long-suffering sigh, simply out of habit when it came to dealing with Yato’s clingy shenanigans, “Okay.” Yukine said, “Up you go then.” He heaved Yato up into his arms. And Yato still didn’t let go. Instead, he just buried his face in the crook of Yukine’s shoulder, soaking in the touch and warmth supplied by his regalia. Too happy for words.

“You good?”

A tiny nod was the only response to Yukine’s query.

“Good.”

“What’s your plan?” Kazuma asked when Yukine turned for the door without further ado, “He might not be safe down in Near Shore. We could offer you much better protection here in the palace.”

“Maybe.” Yukine said softly. The room was filled with regalia and Bishamon was only a few walls away. It _was_ technically the safest place. But it wasn’t their home.

“Maybe it’s the safest place, Kazuma-san. But I don’t think it’s the best place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE! I bet you weren't expecting this so soon (neither was I). But I'm stressed as hell with studying so I did this to relax a bit. I need to get back to work now, but I hope you enjoyed the chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> Also, if you can think of any 'moments' between these two that would be good shenanigans to fit into the story somewhere, let me know!
> 
> PS: this is not shipping. there is no shipping in this story. this is purely master-regalia relationship and a bit of the father-son role swap between Yato and Yukine. please don't misconstrue their interactions (i tagged 'gen' after all).


	6. Reassurance

“Yukki?”

A mass of pink filled his visual field, startling Yukine into semi-alertness.

“Ah, Kofuku-san! I’m so sorry. I zoned out a little there.”

Kofuku’s violet eyes narrowed and her cheeks puffed into a pout, “You know, you’re not going to be much help if you’re this tired. The futons upstairs are pretty much yours back from when you and Yato lived here. Go take a nap.”

Yukine opened his mouth, most likely to argue, but Kofuku’s pout turned into a frown. She rarely frowned. So in essence it was a glare and a guilt trip rolled into one.

“Fine.” Was his only response.

“You don’t have to be so reluctant, Yukki. Daikoku can handle little Yato for you. Kids can burn you out if you’re not careful.”

“Yeah, I sorta noticed.”

Her expression softened, “And we understand how stressful it must be to start from scratch, when you remember everything and he _doesn’t_.”

A sigh worked its way out of Yukine’s chest.

Much to Kofuku’s chagrin, Daikoku had volunteered to watch Yato during the busy lunch hour, something he never would have agreed to do for Yato’s previous reincarnation. Kofuku couldn’t be trusted alone with a kid, much less a kid who used to be a god of calamity, so she was stuck womanning the oden shop on her own now that she’d sacked Yukine.

“Get some rest. It’ll do you some good.”

“Thanks, Kofuku-san.”

And he didn’t regret it. Hours later he felt more alert than he had in the last two weeks. Yato wasn’t a problem per se, but he needed lots of attention and he needed someone to keep him out of trouble. Things Yukine would willingly do. However, despite his exhaustion, he couldn’t sleep at night. His internal clock after years of nighttime surveillance was completely off.

But that wasn’t the only thing.

At night, in the dark lit by a single lamp, he felt the need to watch Yato’s every breath. To make sure he wouldn’t disappear. To make sure the Sorcerer wouldn’t show up and take him. To make sure that this wasn’t all some fantastic dream he’d been living.

He really needed to get over his disbelief and just deal with his present problems. But Yato’s return was so damn unexpected, Yukine felt it was a little hard to put his fears behind him. Yato hadn’t mentioned being stung. So he figured he was good for now. Despite the fact that Yukine was dead on his feet.

And that’s where Kofuku and Daikoku came in. They were pretty much a free babysitting service – a couple of doting parents. Yukine still helped at the shop, but he stayed much longer and let them play with the kid while he took a break.

Which was how Ebisu managed to find him.

He showed up at Kofuku’s doorstep one afternoon with his entourage of regalia in full formal wear. Ebisu however, was another story.

For a god, Ebisu aged quickly. Yukine chalked that up to Ebisu’s tendency to reincarnate frequently, although Yukine hoped that wouldn’t always be the case. Especially now. Because now, Ebisu physically looked to be about the same age as Yukine. They got along quite well.

“Kunumi, could you please take Yato-gami to the park down the street.  I believe I saw an ice cream stand that might interest him. I’d like to talk to his guidepost for a while… one-on-one.”

Yukine glanced down at Yato who was standing close behind him, clutching onto the edge of Yukine’s cardigan with tiny fists. He’d come to see what the commotion was about, but now he seemed wary of the newcomers with their serious appearances. Blue eyes met gold, searching for a cue, which Yukine provided by way of ruffling Yato’s hair and nodding as if to say ‘it’s okay.’

Yato skipped over to Kunumi and craned his head back to get a good look at the regalia. After a few seconds of scrutiny, Yato blurted out candidly, “You’re really tall.”

“Let him ride on your shoulders, Kunimi.” Ebisu suggested in what sounded more like a command. His chief regalia gave him a sort of begging look, which Ebisu promptly rejected, “Don’t give me that. He’ll like it.” He winked, “You’ll get on his good side.”

“Up! Up!” Yato’s insistent grabbing motions were hard to misconstrue, or ignore. So in little to no time, he had his way and was riding high atop Kunumi’s shoulders, “Onward!”

“Off you go!” Ebisu agreed cheerily. He dismissed the rest of his regalia to go with them, arguing that Yato needed the protection. Ebisu’s regalia failed to point out the fact that they couldn’t do much without their master.

Yukine crossed his arms and tilted his head at Ebisu when they were gone, “Well, you certainly manage to get your way. All the time. That much hasn’t changed.”

Ebisu grinned, dark eyes glinting with clever intelligence. Yukine remembered him being scarily smart and analytical as a child. He grown even more so as he aged. And whatever Ebisu decided to put his energy into, it would always yield good results. Yukine supposed it came with being a god of fortune, but Ebisu was ridiculous. Successful. Eccentric. Savvy.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Ebisu said, knowing all along that Yukine’s snark was just his way of being friendly, “A few years?”

“Yeah.” Yukine sat down on the porch and Ebisu took the liberty of doing the same, “You’ve been kinda busy with the new social network platform you helped your favorite human develop. He’s like, crazy rich now.”

Ebisu shrugged, “It’s a step towards my goal of expanding free, accessible, worldwide communication. Uniting people and nations to serve as a catalyst for mutual understanding of… well, I won’t bore you with the details.” He straightened his suit vest that was much less fancy than the wardrobe of his regalia, but still classy, “I didn’t come here to talk about that. I came here to talk about Yato.” He met Yukine’s gaze, head-on, “How is it going? It’s been two weeks. How is Yato?”

Yukine narrowed his eyes, not to be mean, just to try and parse out the meaning behind Ebisu’s interest, “I’m not surprised you heard about that, but you’ll have to be more specific. _Everything_ has changed.”

“Yes, I suppose you are right about that.” Ebisu slid his smartphone out of his pocket and fiddled with it without actually turning it on. A nervous habit, “I guess I mean: is he anything like the previous Yato?” He shot a glance at Yukine to read his reaction, but Yukine was still. He’d been asking himself the same question.

When Yato had first disappeared, Ebisu was the only one who hadn’t acted like Yukine’s existence was some kind of novel phenomenon. He’d helped Yukine work through the practical aspects of living without a master, encouraging him to find something to do with his life and supporting him in any way he could – often financially. Ebisu was good at unbiased advice when it was needed and good at listening when advice was unneeded. They’d formed a sort of functional friendship that Yukine found very simple to navigate. Straightforward and honest.

So, of course Ebisu was the first person to ask what everyone had been secretly wondering.

Yukine took a moment to think over the best way to word his response, “Sometimes, it seems like he’s a clean slate.” He began slowly, “And then other times, I see glimmers of odd little things that seem to scream ‘Yato’ at me. Like, he sleeps with my stuffed capypa and he takes to wearing any stray item of clothing as a scarf. But then some of that stuff just seems like a kid being a kid. I don’t know what to think.”

“What about wishes?”

“What?”

“Wishes.” Ebisu leaned in, expression serious, “What kind of wishes does he grant?”

Yukine shifted, uncomfortable, “I haven’t really… there hasn’t been any… it just hasn’t happened yet, okay.”

Ebisu frowned, “Wishes are what make us gods. Wishes are what define us. Yato would gain a much better understanding of himself by granting wishes. It’s what he was born to do.”

Yukine remained silent, just staring at his slippers.

“You’re scared.” Ebisu surmised, “Scared that he’ll be like he was way back when.”

“It’s a valid concern!” Yukine snapped, still not daring to look the god in the eye, “I don’t know _who_ brought him back. If it was the Sorcerer, won’t it be the same? Won’t he want to… kill people? I can’t allow that! Not for him and not for myself!”

“I understand.”

There was little inflection in Ebisu’s tone. Yukine knew him to be like that. But right now, it irked him that he didn’t know what the god of fortune meant by it. Did he simply ‘understand’ Yukine’s dilemma, but not agree? Or was he willing to leave this alone?

Yukine didn’t have to wonder for long.

Ebisu sighed, rallied himself, and then explained, “I came to see you because I thought you could use some help. This is coming from a god who is experienced in reincarnation. Yato never told me what happened between him and my previous reincarnation, but he did tell me of my predecessor’s wishes: to continue living as my own person. Because, that’s what I am. I am my own person. I am not my previous reincarnation.”

Ebisu put a hand on Yukine’s shoulder to get his full attention.

“What I’m trying to say here is that there are pros and cons to your situation. But you can make the best of it.” Ebisu pulled a coin purse from his pocket and plopped it in Yukine’s lap. It was heavy. “Yato has the chance to start from the beginning. Yukine-kun, you can help him be the person he wanted to be. Just point him in the right direction like the blessed guidepost you are.”

 

Only after Ebisu and his entourage left did Yukine open the coin purse.

It was filled to the brim with five yen coins. “For positive reinforcement.” Ebisu had said.

Yukine couldn’t help the smirk that pulled at his lips. Leave it to Ebisu to think of a brilliant yet simple way to achieve his goals. Yukine was lucky to have Ebisu on his side, but he supposed that _was_ the point of a god of fortune.

“What did that kid want, Yukine?” Yato asked from where he had plopped himself down beside his regalia, feet kicking back and forth over the edge of the porch.

“You’re a kid, Yato. Ebisu is much older.”

“How much older?”

“A few decades, I suppose.”

Yato squinted at his regalia, “You didn’t answer my first question.”

Yukine nodded, “You got me there. He wanted to see how you were doing and help me out with something. He knew your previous reincarnation.”

Yato hummed, looking out over the small yard, “I see. What was he like?”

“Ebisu is a little too smart for his own good, if you ask me.”

“No, I mean, me. What was I like, ya’know, before?”

He sounded far too serious for a five year old. So Yukine took Yato’s face in his hands, squished his round cheeks, and told him, “You were a huge… dork!”

Yato pouted. But in combination with his squished cheeks, it only served to make Yukine laugh out loud. Yato blew a raspberry at him, “I’m serious!”

“Okay, okay. I’ll tell you!” Yukine took a deep breath to smother his giggles and appease his tiny master, “You were a very… multitalented god, you know that? I’ve seen you respond to any and every kind of wish. You could clean things, change diapers, walk dogs. But you were especially good at hunting down ayakashi that made humans upset.”

Yato’s eyes grew to the size of saucers, “Really? But I thought you told me to stay away from them?”

“I did!” Yukine assured him, “For a good reason. You’ll get hurt if you don’t know how to deal with them. That’s where I come in.”

“Your sword form?”

Yukine glanced at Yato, “You knew about that?”

He shrugged his tiny shoulders, “I just had a feeling it. It’s Sekki, right?”

“Right…” Yukine didn’t know how to feel about this innate knowledge Yato seemed to have, “Right. It’s something we’ll work on later. Alright?”

“Why not now?”

“Because you don’t even know how to use a sword and you might hurt yourself.” Yukine deadpanned.

Yato leaned into Yukine’s personal space as was typical of him, his tone insistent, “Maybe I _do_ know how to use a sword and I just don’t know it yet because I haven’t tried!”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“We should try it!” Yato jumped up from his seat. He raised a hand above his head and before Yukine had the chance to stop him, he called for his weapon, “Come, Sekki!”

Yukine’s protests were swallowed in the light that tingled down his arms and the energy that seeped into his consciousness. Becoming a weapon was invigorating in a way that nothing else could be. He was aware of his power, the sharpness of his blade, and the length of his reach. He landed in Yato’s hands like his master had never been gone.

Although, Yato’s grip was much less firm and much less sweaty.

“That wasn’t so bad!” Yato chirped.

“It’s not supposed to be.” Yukine explained with a roll of his eyes, “The banishing bit is the harder part. You’ve gotta invoke your name as a god before you strike the ayakashi down and they don’t tend to stand still for that part.”

“We’ll practice! I wanna be cool like I was before and hunt ayakashi!”

“Why?” Yukine asked. It was a simple, but loaded question.

“What do you mean ‘why’?”

“Why do you want to hunt ayakashi? What motivates you?”

From the hidden space inside of his sword form Yukine waited for the answer. It would dictate his approach from this point forward. What motivates this new Yato? Was is the desire to tear things apart and achieve infamy or was it the desire to protect human life?

Yato smiled in a way that was all teeth and squinty eyes – one hundred percent genuine. Just Yato. All Yato.

“I want to make people happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took some artistic licence with Ebisu, but he was lots of fun. Other than that, I'm pretty brain dead now that exams are over, so I don't have much to say. Over and out!

**Author's Note:**

> *huge inhalation* WELL....
> 
> I've been nervous to post this, but here goes nothing. This is an idea I've had for a while and I'm really excited about writing it (even though I still have some details to work out). Anyway, the first few chapters set the stage. I'd really appreciate feedback and I'll answer any questions provided it's not a spoiler!
> 
> Thanks for taking the time to read! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> PS: the fluff will come eventually, I promise! >.


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